So it Was Fated
by HeartandImagination
Summary: After asking Walter for his help, Peter prepares to enter the machine. Olivia is torn between duty and love. Each deals with emotional turmoil, but do not waver. What was written MUST come to pass.


**Sic erat in fatis (So it Was Fated)**

_Peter and Walter share a toast as Peter accepts his fate regarding the machine, andhe asks Walter for help. Peter leaves and prepares to go to the machine. Walter sits for awhile and reflects on the past decisions that have led to this moment. Olivia is torn between duty and love. Each struggles with the inner emotional turmoil he or she has, but they do not waver. What was written MUST come to pass._

**WALTER:**

Walter sat numb in his office chair, unable to move as his muscles seemed to be frozen in place. Slow streams of hot tears flowed down his sleepless face. He figured that he had cried more in the past year than he had ever done in his lifetime. There was no way he could escape the lurching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His body so wanted to vomit. The alcohol that he had shared in a toast with his son was not the reason for his sick feeling. He had to finally accept the path that the Peter had chosen for himself as a man. Peter was a better man than both of his fathers.

Peter had told him that he had a philosophy that each person was ultimately responsible for his or her own decisions. Walter could not argue with this view; he knew more than anyone the price one must pay for the choices he or she makes. Truly, he reaped what he had sowed. Peter was probably going to die, and he could do nothing to stop it. In fact, he had agreed to assist him in what may be his demise.

The boy he affectionately call _son_ had been a man for a while. Pretty much since he was thirteen years old. When _daddy_ was put away for insanity...

Walter recalled when he first learned he had a son. He had rushed to the hosital in Cambridge, to be greeted by a small, crying lump of awkward flesh and bone, that had hints of himself. The boy was covered in a swath of blonde hair, that would darken to brown over time. Green-eyes stared back him in wonder for a few seconds as Walter had quietly shed tears of his own.

_I have a son._

Life seemed to be so complete. But happiness soon turned to heartbreak and despair. Peter Robert Bishop, son of Walter and Elizabeth Bishop, died way too young.

Walter should have listened to Carla Warren those 26 long years ago. She had warned him about playing God, about the consequences of the actions he took. Or at least he could have taken the advice of fellow scientist Thomas Huxley, who said, "A man's worst difficulties begin when he is able to do as he likes." No truer words were spoken...

Walter had taken THIS son from another father. But the boy was dying! He saved Peter's life! Peter who isn't his son... but is his son... what a contradiction. Moments flashed by in Walter's mind, surprsingly very clear.

_Taking the boy from his real mother._

_The look of his Elizabeth's face when she first saw him._

_Teaching Peter how to play the piano..._

_Buying him his first chemistry set._

Playing with the family dog.

_T__aking him to the doctor many times because Peter's immune system was not handling the germs of his new universe._

_Weekends making whale-shaped pancakes and buidling sand castles on the beach._

_The first time he saw Peter in many years because of Olivia._

How strange it was for Peter and Olivia to have fallen for each other. Walter smiled every time Olivia came over to their home, which was pretty much every night now. But Walter knew this happiness could not last forever. It gave him great sadness to think that Olivia and Peter would most likely not have a chance at a family, or a life-time of growing old together.

Walter knew it would have happened _if only..._

Another painful thought had come up in his recollection, one more recent. He had kept a secret from both Peter and Olivia. Walter had found the remnants of a suicide note written by hand, by Peter. It explicitly revealed just how much Olivia meant to his son's life.

_Dear Walter,_

_If you are reading this, then it is because the outcome of Olivia's situation has been for the worst. _

_You understand the anguish of losing a loved one more than anyone. But at least you could do something to extinguish your immediate pain. It is terrible that because of my cowardly action, you will experience that pain all over again. I actually think that the universe is pissed with us for my continued existence. Every sorrow either of us has experienced has been the result of me still drawing breath._

_Now I can see just how my poor mother went off the deep end. I never considered offing myself, no matter how lonely I was, or how much trouble I had dug myself into. But this, this is too much for me to bear. Olivia had a beautiful life; not ideal by many people's standards, but she made it hers despite her past. And I went and fucked it all up..._

Peter suffered greatly from the burden of his existence, but never told Walter those feelings. Walter crumpled over and sobbed as he re-lived finding this small look into his son's innermost thoughts.

Astrid came into the office and immediately noticed Walter's state of duress. She quietly placed the hot bag of Chinese take-out down on the desk. Then she took Walter by his trembling hand and pulled him up into her embrace. She had come to love the man as a father, and Peter was very much like her brother. She had grown to appreciate and embrace these two broken and kind men as her second family. Normally optimistic, she felt that part of her world was crashing down with the Bishops'.

**PETER:**

Peter has reached a point where he saw Walter as a flawed man with great experience from his unique journey. One of Peter's guiding philopsphies was that no man was above another. Each has their own shortcomings. These could be used to teach others in walking their own paths. Asking Walter for help in what might be his final steps seemed only natural and fitting. Peter had accepted that for whatever reason, Walter was supposed to save his life. He wasn't sure why, but knew from the existence of the machine, that this had to be the case.

Arriving from the lab, Peter unlocked the door of the Bishop home and looked around, taking in a deep breath and he closed his eyes. Not too long ago, he felt lost; adrift in a sea of confusion and anger. The last few months, this place had truly felt safe to him. It was home. He gladly shared it with Walter, even with all of the the old man's quirks and idiosyncrancies. Peter wanted to make it a home for Olivia as well... Given a little bit more time, he would have asked her to share the rest of her life with him. Partner, Friend, Lover, Soul-Mate: She was everything to him. Now, life was cruel enough to snuff out what might have been.

_He thought back to before everything went to Hell._

A couple of nights ago had been nothing short of exhilarating. He and Olivia had some time off, and they spent it like a _normal _couple, watching movies, and enjoying a delicious meal that he and she had cooked together. The highlight had been in the form of a long stroll, hand-in-hand talking about anything that came to mind. They both forgot the world for awhile, enthralled with each others presence.

In his bed that night, they could not get enough of each other. Afterwards, it wasn't long before Olivia had drifted to sleep. Peter was very tired, but oh so emotionally relieved. But he could not sleep due to a throbbing headache that was progressing toward a migraine. He got up from the bed, giving Olivia a loving look-over. Then he headed to the bathroom and popped a couple of Exedrin. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked quite rough even for Peter, and for a man that had just had a nice bout of intense sex.

The pain pills has become his friend lately, and he was thinking about snagging something more strong from Massive Dynamic. For weeks, Peter had been keeping a secret. He was not physically well, and knew it, but attributed it to the events of the past year. He knew he was fooling himself. He had not experienced these types of headaches since he was in his late teens. When he was a very ill young man, he was constantly in and out of doctor's offices.

Once he was sure it wasn't a bad migraine, he went back to the bed and laid down next to Olivia. Peter pulled her close to him, his mind running wild with thoughts of the future. He had never been so frightened of what may come to be in his life. He had something very real now, and could not bear the thought of losing Olivia or causing her any more pain. But the machine was going to get him, one way or another.

As the morning light casacded into his room, Peter felt her absence. Olivia came back shortly and nestled herself against his body. All Peter had ever wanted was found in his arms. Listening to her speak of a world full of promise, swelled his heart and other parts of his anatomy. As he held her close, breathing in the scent of her golden hair, looking into her green eyes filled with love, Peter was almost overcome with tears. He wanted to make love to her again, but the universe had other plans...

The machine in the other universe had been activated. How, they were not certain. But one thing was for certain, they were just about out of time.

Olivia had to travel to Massive Dynamic to aid Nina Sharp in the formation of Amber protocol to contain the Fringe events that were about to happen. Leaving Peter behind. Before she left, Peter felt the greatest urge to grab her, make her stay with him. Beg her to take him with her. But he had decided on another course of action.

How could he let her go, knowing full well what he was about to do? Looking deep into her obviously wet eyes, as she stared into him, he let her go without telling her... telling her he loved her. As if not saying those three words would allow them to avoid the inevitible: she was going to have to let him go. There is a saying that one had to be outright mad to be in love, which made Peter believe he was the most insane man ever. He loved Olivia so much. The last thing he wanted was for her to watch him die. So, he didn't tell her he planned to get into the machine. Something that only a couple of weeks ago, he swore he'd never do. He had looked at Bell/Olivia like the words the old man had said to him about unavoidable fate were a vile heresy.

Much of what Peter had believed all his through his childhood and early adulthood had crashed before him. So why not his thoughts on having free will. He felt like somewhere there had to be a Master of Puppets pulling his strings. The thought disgusted and depressed him. But nothing compared to the tremors he felt when he thought of Olivia's reaction to his deed.

**OLIVIA:**

Letting him go that afternoon was so damned difficult. Every part of her wanted to latch on to Peter, selfishly keeping him to herself. She was absolutely terrified. Her love for this man was so intense. The combined feelings made Peter glimmer so brightly that Olivia found it difficult to hide her response. He was lit up like a magnesium strip exposed to oxygen. But she could still clearly see his beautiful, but sad, pale-blue eyes. She and Peter had always had this visual communication between them, pretty much from the day they met. A look or a glance could say it all.

_The small spark often initiates a large flame_

She wasn't looking for love when she first met Peter what seemed ages ago in that Iraqi hotel. IT was pretty much the LAST thing on her mind, especially with HIM. But it just happened. Some sort of cosmic fate perhaps? She tried desparately to ignore how he got to her, but as her feelings for Peter grew, she cold no longer contain them. The barriers between them seemed insurmountable, but they had overcome them.

Olivia felt the sting at how much she grief she had given him when she felt that her alternate was the better version of herself. She had viewed the other Olivia Dunham as some sort of perfect person, and convinved herself that Peter wanted perfection. Now, Olivia had accepted that Peter had let her down; he wasn't perfect and he assured her that SHE was who he wanted, with all her imperfections. Reading the book that he had intended for her was quite an eye-opener to his personal philosphy, part of what made Peter tick. His proclamation to her of _"Who's stopping us now" _kicked her backwards to look honestly at herself. Olivia came to appreciate what Shakespeare had written: _"Our doubts are traitors." _

She was glad that she had made the decison to forgive him when she did. Olivia thought back to the night that she had set aside her doubts, and made Peter hers. They had salvaged what had almost ended before it had begun.

**6B:**

Olivia had not imagined that she'd let him _so damned close s_o soon. She had every intention of staying just friendly with him, allowing it to possibly progress from there. Every part of her rational mind screamed at her that she needed to quit, stop... not _reward _him for letting her be replaced so easily. But, her rational mind had also reminded her that she was trying to hold Peter to a higher standard than her own self. She allowed John to keep secrets from her. Her best friend had been poorly replaced by a shapeshifter for Christ's sake, and she had no fucking clue. Olivia had made up her mind, to ignore her rational side. _The problem is you think too much, _she once heard Walter tell Peter. No more thinking.

She took his hand and gently led him up the creaky staircase to the door of his bedroom. Peter questioned her with his eyes as he was apt to do, and she answered by smiling coyly and nodding her head, yes.

He undressed her as if he were opening a very expensive gift wrapped in elaborate paper. As each piece of clothing was removed, Peter would admire what was revealed and kiss her, then Olivia would take her turn. She felt the size and heat of him as he pressed against her. The fact that Peter was so turned on made her own body respond with sensitivity and warmth, making Olivia become soaked with her need to feel him.

He bent down, slightly breathing into her ear, sending ripples of feeling up and down her neck and spine.

"I am going to do things to you, for you, that few have had the pleasure of receiving. He looked at her, wondering if he should go there, but said it in a lowered whisper, "Even _her._" Olivia pulled her head up and looked at him intensely. "She seemed to want to get things over with quickly. I thought at the time that I hadn't imagined you'd be like that. Well, now of course we know why." Peter gently cupped her chin in his hands 'Livia, I want to give you all I've got, if you'll let me. I've wanted to really make love to _you _for so long."

He'd be the one rewarding her. There was nothing more Peter wanted to do than make her squirm under his worship of her body. He wanted to give her the explosive "little deaths" that would allow all of Olivia's pent up pain and suffering to wash away as she was made anew by his touch.

He rubbed his fingers along the slick folds of her flesh loving the feel of her quivering body under his touch. They both slowly dipped upon his bed, almost like performing a slow dance. Peter wasted no time as he kissed down Olivia's torso, making her shiver and moan. Dipping his tongue into her and all around her, he used his fingers like they were small engine pistons, driving into her, building pressure and heat. He encouraged her to come for him, and she was giving him sultry looks in between her gasps of pleasure that made him continue his pleasurable assault on her body. She came for him not only shuddering and quaking, but with a release of warm liquid as she called his name and pleaded with him to stop because it felt so good. Peter was pleasantly surprised by this, and it only added to his intense desire for her. _Begging him to stop... wow..._

She was dripping her want and it was all because of him. His body quivered with anticipation, and he could not longer restrain himself as he brought himself above her. She gripped hold of him gently, the sudden intrusion of the velvet touch of her hand making Peter nearly spurt like an inexperienced teenager. Clinging to his back and moving her legs open like a gate that had had been flung open, she brought him to her center. Looking down upon her with an intense stare of love and desire, he entered her quickly, and they both reacted with deep gasps to the connection. One they both had been denied for so long. Peter felt so damned good; she was on fire as a result of the several intense orgasms she had already experienced due to their foreplay. He felt like he literally could melt away inside her. Wave after intense wave rolled within her until finally she felt him increase his tempo and forcefully pulse as his own release mixed with hers. Both of their voices echoing their delight into the otherwise empty Bishop house. Where she began and he ended, Olivia did not care.

Olivia looked at him like he was a god. She had never experienced _that _level of orgasm before. She knew some women were capable, but no man she had been with had bothered to find out until Peter. Her mind was glazed over from the release of happy chemicals in her fogged over brain. She smiled at the thought of him learning her body's mechanics like some sort of instrument or machine, an art to be perfected._ Oh God, Peter is an __empathic__ perfectionist. I could really get used to this,_ she thought.

"You liked that, huh, sweetheart?" Peter devilishly grinned and asked her once she looked like she could breathe again. Olivia shot him a pleased glance that pretty much said, _you've got to be kidding me, right? _She shook her head in the affirmative, because she found herself unable to speak. She didn't need to speak. She pulled her now cooling body closer to Peter, not caring about the wet evidence of their foray together. He kissed her, thanking the heavens for this. He was sure he had ruined them forever, when all he wanted was for her to be happy with him. But, they're stronger than that. After this, he was sure that _nothing_ but death itself could pull them apart. Olivia was smiling, her own special smile, and he loved _her _so much for it.

**Liberty Island**

Olivia's heart had wanted to sing from the joy of the love that they had shared. Those too few moments may be all she had of him soon.

But she had a job to do, and her part in this might just save him... Part of her felt wrong in knowing that Peter's life was her main motivation. Olivia had always followed the advice of the Roman politician, Cicero:_ The safety of the people is the supreme law. _Billions unknowlingly depended on her boyfriend's part in this messed up situation. Oliva told herself that Peter would pull through this...

Nina Sharp was right. If there was ever anything true that came out of the enigmatic woman's mouth, it was her keen observation that Olivia was _"not prepared to lose him."_

Now, the moment of fate's evil hand had arrived and she silenty prayed that it was bluffing. Her chest tightened and her breathing seized. Olivia had barely eaten, but was sick to her stomach, waves of nausea threatening to overcome her stoic facade. She gazed at Peter, mustering the last reserves of her immense strength, and he smiled. A smile that said G_oodbye, Olivia_. Her heart then finally relented. Damn him for being so cool. How lucky she was to have someone that made saying goodbye so terrible. Olivia brought forth a smile that spoke to him..._ It's OK, you can go..._

"Don't say I never took you anywhere," Peter earnestly said to her.

The choice of the word "took" caught her off-guard. The finality in its connotation made her even more nervous. As far as Olivia was concerned, she and Peter were standing at the gates of Hell. However, she would not back down. She wanted it all to be a dream. Having John die in her arms was nothing like leading Peter to his possible end.

She was going to say it. It did not have to be said, but she NEEDED to say it.

"I love you."

He drew her into a passionate kiss, and after their embrace, she could feel the reverberation of his heartbeat.

Olivia was not sure if she could watch, but Peter's loving gaze never left her eyes until the moment he made the final connection to the ancient machine. His body contorted, and Peter's eyes rolled back into his head and closed. Both Walter and Olivia stood silent, awaiting the results of Peter's ascent to his destiny...

_"Optimum est pati quod emendare non possis." _

_(It is best to endure what you cannot change. )_

_-Seneca, Moral Epistles_


End file.
